


see me after class

by rire



Series: Rarepair Battle 2k15 [2]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 20:34:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3424712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rire/pseuds/rire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If someone told Nijimura a few months ago that he would be fucking his student on a regular basis, he’d probably punch them in the face.</p><p>And yet, here stands Akashi Seijuurou, proving him wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	see me after class

If someone told Nijimura a few months ago that he would be fucking his student on a regular basis, he’d probably punch them in the face.

And yet, here stands Akashi Seijuurou, proving him wrong. He stands directly in front of Nijimura’s desk, wearing a secretive smile as he watches Nijimura expectantly. His posture is the epitome of innocence, but Nijimura knows otherwise. The tension hanging over them is so thick Nijimura could cut through it with a knife.

"Just wait a second," Nijimura says as he marks the last test paper with slightly shaky hands. It still bothers him how Akashi can look so nonchalant, not a single hair out of place as he stands and waits for Nijimura, knowing full well what they’re about to do.

“Take your time, Nijimura-sensei,” Akashi says, in that falsely sweet tone of voice that goes straight to Nijimura’s crotch, and yeah, he really shouldn’t be this turned on, but it’s been a long day. Time always seems to slow down, the hands of the clock ticking at half-speed when he’s at the front of the class with Akashi’s eyes boring holes into his back, with the lump in his throat every time he looked out at the class and saw Akashi’s top button undone and the pale expanse of skin peeking out, Akashi’s lips wrapped around the back of a pencil and sucking. He’d barely managed to get through the day, muttering a hasty “See me after class” to Akashi on his way out, who’d simply responded with a knowing smile that Nijimura wanted to kiss right off of him.

Nijimura’s eyes quickly scan the last few questions of the test paper, hardly even absorbing the information before marking the entire thing with a large, rather messy checkmark and placing it at the bottom of the pile. He looks up casually, routinely, to make sure all the windows are closed and the blinds shut. The door doesn’t have a lock, but hardly anyone ever stays at the school this late in the evening.

As soon as Nijimura’s eyes dart back toward Akashi, something snaps inside them both. Nijimura’s not sure who moves first, but it doesn’t matter because in an instant their hands are all over one another and their lips meet in a hot, hungry kiss. Nijimura curls his fingers against the back of Akashi’s neck, tugging him closer, and plants his other hand around his waist, pressing their chests together. Not that Akashi needed much incentive anyways, with the way he’s licking intently into Nijimura’s mouth, fingers gently yet firmly sliding against that small patch of skin between the hem of his shirt and the waistband of his pants. Nijimura gets the hint, untangling his fingers from Akashi’s hair and unzipping his pants. His boxers are halfway down the curve of his ass when a knock suddenly sounds at the door.

Nijimura flinches and breaks away from the kiss, his blood running cold. His eyes dart in panic around the room, looking for a place where Akashi can sneak out and realizing with dread that the windows are all locked. The knock echoes through the room again, and before Nijimura can think, he hastily grabs a fistful of bright red hair and shoves Akashi underneath his desk, planting himself onto the chair and sliding his chair forward to conceal Akashi’s presence.

“Come in,” he says, trying to sound as utterly composed as possible, as if he’s not hiding an illegal underage affair beneath his desk. The voice on the other side—Nijimura recognizes him as Tanaka, the teacher next door—steps in. The lucky placement of the desk exactly across from the door means that Tanaka senses nothing amiss as he walks up to Nijimura with a beaming smile on his face.

“Nijimura-san,” Tanaka says, clutching a stack of papers in his hand, and Nijimura’s stomach drops to his feet. “I have a couple of forms for you to fill out, if you don’t mind.”

“I’m actually kind of busy right now,” Nijimura says, gesturing to the clearly marked stack of test papers in front of him. Tanaka raises an eyebrow, and Nijimura elaborates. “I, uh, double-check all my test papers. Just to make sure.” Tanaka nods understandingly, all wide-eyed as if he’s actually interested in Nijimura’s marking process. Meanwhile, Nijimura can feel Akashi’s hot breath against his still exposed crotch, and he tries not to squirm in his seat. In hindsight, that was probably not one of the brightest decisions he’s ever made.

“Well, this is sort of urgent, actually. I’m really sorry. These forms are due at the main office by the end of the day. They’re just about the upcoming school festival, though. Super easy! I can help you fill them out if you’d like. I mean, it’s your first year here, after all, and all these responsibilities must be pretty overwhelming.”

Nijimura shakes his head a little too fervently, feeling a slight pang of guilt when Tanaka looks rather taken aback. “No, no, it’s just—I wouldn’t want to waste your time.”

“It’s really not a big deal,” Tanaka offers helpfully— _unhelpfully_ —as he plops the stack of papers down in front of Nijimura. “Here,” he says, pointing to the first section. “Your name, class, ID number, and then here, you just write down the event your class is responsible for.”

But Nijimura’s not listening, because a hand is slowly sliding up his inner thigh, sending shivers up his spine. The hand grips the base of his cock, and before he can even react, the head of his cock is enveloped in the sudden warmth of Akashi’s mouth. Nijimura nearly jumps out of his seat, reflexively trying to kick Akashi in the thigh but missing and hitting the inside of his desk with a _thump._  A dull pain shoots up his leg, but Akashi only takes him in deeper, stroking his hand along Nijimura’s leg gently as if trying to ease the pain. He bites down on his lip and swallows the groan that nearly escapes his lips.

God  _damn_ Akashi, always testing his patience.

“Nijimura-san?” Tanaka asks, eyeing him with such blatant concern that Nijimura kind of wants to cry with frustration. “Did you hear something just now?”

“No,” Nijimura says much too quickly. “Go on—I mean, please continue.”

Nijimura swears he can sense Akashi’s smirk as he pulls off, only to press an obscene, open-mouthed kiss to the head of Nijimura’s cock that has his legs trembling and his hands gripping the edge of the desk so tightly his knuckles go white. Tanaka continues to speak, flipping the page over just as Nijimura lets out a quiet gasp, effectively masking the sound.

“And here you write the names of the class representatives. Who are yours?”

“Momoi Satsuki and—” Nijimura has to bite back a laugh—“Akashi Seijuurou.”

“Ah, yeah, that Akashi-kun,” Tanaka says, his eyes brightening up in recognition. “I’m not surprised to hear that. Everyone knows his name around here. Model student, captain of the basketball team…You have to wonder how he manages to balance all that stuff on his plate and still ace all his classes.”

“Yeah. ‘S pretty unbelievable,” Nijimura says dryly, while the subject of Tanaka’s one-sided conversation, hidden from sight under the desk, just goes on sucking Nijimura’s dick like there’s no tomorrow. Nijimura’s not sure whether he wants to laugh or cry at the irony of the situation. Mostly he just wants to cry from sexual frustration. Tanaka talks on, changing the subject to something else, blissfully unaware of the fact that all Nijimura really wants is for him to leave so he can grab onto Akashi’s hair and fuck his mouth until he comes.

As if reading his mind, Akashi takes Nijimura even deeper, and Nijimura can’t help but let out a moan, inwardly cursing the fact that he has to be so naturally vocal during sex. Tanaka looks up and Nijimura manages to disguise the sound as a cough, bringing his hand up to his face and coughing a few extra times for good measure.

“Is…something wrong, Nijimura-san?”

“No,” Nijimura says, and then Akashi flattens his tongue against the side of his dick and licks up his sensitive spot and that’s it, he can’t fucking do this anymore. “I—actually, I think I might, uh, be coming down with a cold,” he rasps, his voice hoarse enough to make the lie rather believable. “I think you should go. I wouldn’t—I wouldn’t want you to catch anything.”

“Oh,” Tanaka says, furrowing his eyebrows in concern. “The flu’s been going around, hasn’t it? You should head home and get some rest. I’m sure the office wouldn’t mind if you handed the forms in tomorrow. I guess I’ll head home too, then.”

Relief floods through him like a wave, and Nijimura lets out the breath he’s been holding. “Thanks,” Nijimura says much too happily as Tanaka heads for the door.

“Anytime. Take care,” he says with a wave as he closes the door behind him.

Oh, he will.

In that exact instant, Nijimura seizes Akashi by the collar and pulls him out from under the desk, casting him a glare that probably doesn’t end up as harsh as he intended, as he takes in the way Akashi’s pupils are blown apart, his hair messy with static from being pressed against the underside of the desk, his lips pink and wet. It’s obscene, all of it, and the lecture on the tip of Nijimura’s tongue—of just how dangerous it was, that he could have gotten fired or worse _—_ everything is thrown out the window and replaced with carnal instinct.

Akashi looks silently up at him, a devious glint in his eyes, and Nijimura swallows thickly. “Don’t look at me like that. Just—just finish what you started,” Nijimura says simply, and Akashi does just that.

His mouth is on Nijimura’s cock in an instant, taking him all the way in. Akashi’s nose presses up against the hairs at the base of Nijimura’s cock and then he swallows, and  _fuck,_ Nijimura can’t wait anymore. Abandoning any semblance of composure he had left, he fists his hands in Akashi’s hair and lets out a strangled groan, hips bucking up involuntarily. Akashi looks up at him, cheeks flushed and hollow and gives a little nod as if he knows what Nijimura’s thinking, and that’s all the incentive he needs to start fucking into Akashi’s mouth in earnest, thrusting and hitting the back of his throat, causing Akashi’s eyes to water just slightly. But he never tears his gaze off of Nijimura. Those eyes, watching, appraising, knowing, reveling in the way Nijimura has lost all control—

“Fuck—” His voice breaks, trailing off into a gasp as the pleasure engulfs him and he comes, _finally_ , his orgasm shuddering through him as he spills into Akashi’s mouth.

Panting and breathless, Nijimura leans back in his chair and goes boneless. Trembling hands barely manage to pull his boxers up and zip his pants before they fall limply at his sides. The only evidence of what they did stains the corner of Akashi’s lips, and is erased as a pink tongue darts out to lick away the white liquid. Akashi brings a sleeve up to wipe at the corners of his eyes, and Nijimura’s heart does a little backflip in his chest.

“You little shit,” he breathes, unable to muster up any real harshness in his voice after coming so hard he can hardly even tell up from down. “You’ve just earned yourself detention for the next week.”

But if Akashi’s satisfied smirk is any indication, both of them know that it’s not as much a punishment as it is a reward. 


End file.
